Tales of adventures in mediocre mothering and travelling with children

The hangover designed just for kids.

My children suffer from hangovers which are completely caused by me and my slack parenting. It’s not all tequila shots and fish bowl cocktails though. Their hangovers are a direct result of hedonistic times but rather than a pub, they happen at my parents’ house. That’s right, Nana and Poppy give them a drug called “Do Whatever You Want” which Sussie and The Boetman drink up in bucketfuls.

What’s that? Want to make an enormous mess in the loungeroom? Sure!

Want a second icecream even though you never normally even have icecream? Double sprinkles? Sure!

Biscuits at 5pm? Random presents? Endless rides on the tractor? TV shows whenever you want? A pony? Nothing is too much trouble for you my grandchild!!!!!?????

Yes it’s a bit of a prickly subject. On the one wonderful hand, the kids are in the best possible hands in that I know they are being looked after by people who love them just as much as I do. And I’m not there- I’m off reliving pre-children times.

Nana ruining Sussie in the Margaret River last year.

On the other not so wonderful hand, once they are returned to me, my children are ruined. As they bark orders for cold water (because room temperature water is no longer acceptable. Thanks Nana!?) from the couch and have a nuclear meltdown every time the word ‘no’ is uttered, I wonder why I do this to myself.

It’s pretty easy to answer: I’m absolved of parenting for those few days. And it’s wonderful, full of reckless abandon, a clean house for more than five minutes, uninterrupted conversations and Facebook moments. You know, what you used to do before you had children.

So like a big night out with your mates I’ve weighed up the options and decided the hangover is most definitely worth it. I ready myself with some metaphorical Panadol, Berocca and a hearty breakfast and take charge of my sugared up kids with an iron fist. We go cold turkey on the sweets and discipline is meted out in a consistently firm yet loving (pffft) manner. Yes, my house after a trip to Nana and Poppy’s is akin to a militant style Betty Ford Clinic

But it’s worth it. I get a break and my children get to live beyond measure ensconced in Nana and Poppy goodness.